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Teague handed Sabrina the roses and she was pretty damn sure his fingers trailing over the soft spot under her wrist was no accident.
“You better take these,” Teague said with a knowing smile. “We don’t want to disappoint Chef Jean since she’s making our dinner tonight.”
“Our what?” Confused, Sabrina swung her gaze back to the kitchen but the little woman had already disappeared.
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“Chef Jean comes highly recommended from Abby and Tucker. She’s part owner and head chef at an amazing Thai restaurant in Manhattan.”
“But,” Sabrina stuttered.
“I managed to convince her to fly up here and give us a meal to remember. I know how much you enjoy Thai.”
Shocked she stared up at Teague. “How would you know that?”
“You mentioned it once during the summer. If I remember correctly, you said that you lost a battle to have Thai served at your wedding and you had to settle for chicken. And you hate chicken.”
“I…” She was stunned that he would remember a small detail like that. “This is…this must have cost a fortune.”
Teague shrugged and smiled that devastating smile of his. “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”
“You! Simon man! You bring me the rest of the baskets, yes?” Chef Jean frowned at Sabrina. “Lady you should get clean and maybe change. Okay?” She clapped her hands together. “We have a good night.”
The little woman disappeared once more.
“You might want to listen to her,” Teague said softly, as he passed by her with a large cooler and a smaller basket of food. “I think she’s used to giving orders and there might be hell to pay if you don’t follow them.”
She glanced down at her worn jeans and the paint-stained T-shirt that was two sizes too big.
“Maybe wear that blue dress,” Teague said with a wink, and then he too disappeared into the kitchen.
She heard the excited voices of her children and the mad barking of Bingo. The welcome crew was out in full force. Sabrina slowly closed the door and set the vase of red roses on the table in the hall.
Morgan was shrieking “Tigger! You have to see our fort. You have to!” While Harry was asking if he had to eat all the vegetables in the baskets. He informed Chef Jean that he hated the green ones. Sabrina couldn’t hear the lady’s response, and the timbre of Teague’s voice was low. Intimate. This entire situation was surreal.
Whatever he said quieted the children, and wonder of all wonders, the dog followed suit.
Wow. Head spinning, Sabrina climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She was outnumbered and outgunned and totally unsure. Letting Teague into her home might be the biggest gamble of her life.
She closed her bedroom door and leaned back on it for a few seconds, trying to gather her scattered thoughts and trying to calm her fast beating heart. It was no use, of course. There would be no calming of the nerves and no way would her heart slow down, not with Teague in the house.
She eyed her closet and after a moment’s hesitation, headed for it.
Forty-five minutes later, she was ready for dinner. She’d dug out the blue dress she’d worn for Teague on their last night together in the summer, but opted for flats instead of heels. Her hair was secured to one side in a loose bun, her cheeks were flushed a healthy pink, and oh, the butterflies in her stomach were working overtime.
How was she ever going to eat dinner if the damn things didn’t disappear? She stood on the last stair, hand clutching the railing.
Bingo rounded the corner and stared up at her, tail wagging madly. The dog was in his happy place. “Traitor,” she murmured, bending over to scratch behind his ears. She straightened when she heard a noise from the dining room.
On tiptoes, Sabrina made her way across the hall. She took a moment and then peeked inside. It didn’t take long for her heart to squeeze and then turn over. The table was set for four, and Teague was handing Morgan the silverware. His head bent low, and he was listening intently as she told him about the rep hockey team she’d made.
“I’m the only girl on the whole team, Tigger.”
“That’s impressive.”
She nodded. “I know. And I get my own dressing room. Just like I’m a princess or something.” She giggled. “The boys’ room stinks.”
“Does not,” Harry said, placing a napkin on the finished plate setting. “Girls are stinkier than boys.”
